Fallen Angel
by Sage Saria
Summary: A mysterious angelic figure comes to earth with no knowledge of who he is or where he came from, and dwells in the Human World hoping to find the answers. Set after Anime storyline. Darnit,I wish I could summarise this better!


Fallen Angel  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Rain fell upon the tiny inn, heavily thudding on its roof. Wind beat upon the walls, whistling sharply, rattling the windows. Lightning streaked across the sky like a great claw reaching through the clouds. Thunder crashed and echoed through the wooded land.  
  
But among the sounds of the storm, more came from within the inn. Clattering of dishes, wooden floors creaking, and the tired voices of those left homeless after the war speaking among each other.  
  
Suddenly all the busy movement stopped as the door was kicked open and a man entered.  
  
"Somebody help!" he called in an urgent, winded voice. All faces turned to see him. His whole body was soaked to the bone, dark hair lying flat and dripping upon his head. It didn't take long for those looking upon him to see that it wasn't him who needed aid, for then they saw, cradled in his arms, wrapped in a black cloak, was the limp figure of a boy.  
  
One of the maids rushed to him and looked at the boy. He appeared to be fairly young, probably about sixteen years old. His body was long and narrow, as if he had hardly eaten anything in his life. Short, unkempt hair the color of the sky fell limp from the rain. A golden halo circled his head, softly lighting his boyish face.  
  
"I found him in the woods." The man said, "He's ill."  
  
The maid looked over the boy again. His skin was a ghostly white, but a streak of red could faintly be seen glowing across his face. He was breathing slowly in quiet, rasping breaths. She placed her hand lightly on his forehead. He definitely had a fever.  
  
"Bring him this way." The maid turned and lead the man with his load to the back of the room, the other visitors stepping aside to clear their path.  
  
"Omi, get the doctor." She said to a tall, light haired boy as they passed him at the stairs. He nodded and ran down the hall as the maid and man went up the stairs.  
  
***  
  
So hot...  
  
The first thing that returned to him was the unbearable heat of his body. It was as if his very skin was on fire.  
  
Then something cool and moist touched his forehead. Cloth? It was difficult to tell in his weakened state. Well, whatever it was, it was soothing. He could feel the burning heat slowly vanishing at its presence.  
  
He opened his eyes, but just barely. He couldn't focus well, but he could see someone standing over him. He did not recognize him. Whoever it was, he didn't seem to notice that he was conscious. Not surprising. He didn't look any different then when he wasn't.  
  
The stranger turned around and said something to someone else in the room. His weak, overheated mind couldn't make out what he was saying.  
  
The blurred images started to hurt his eyes. He closed them again, and found himself slipping back into unconsciousness.  
  
***  
  
"Well?"  
  
The doctor looked at the sleeping boy on the bed, then looked back at the maid.  
  
"With him unconscious, I can't find out exactly what illness is plaguing him. But I didn't find any rashes or blemishes on his skin, so I don't think it's anything serious. If we can break his fever, he should be all right."  
  
The maid sighed with relief. The doctor took from his pocket a small vial containing a light green liquid.  
  
"Give this to him. It will help bring the fever down." He said, placing the vial in her hands, "I'll come back in the morning to check on him. Come get me if anything happens before then."  
  
"Thank you." The maid replied. He nodded, then turned and exited the room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.  
  
The maid went to the bed and sat next to the boy. She slipped an arm under his neck and gently lifted him so that he was sitting up. She winced with sympathy as she felt the heat against her arm. Supporting the boy's head against her forearm, she used her free hand to remove the stopper from the vial. A sharp odor seeped from it. Wrinkling her nose at the smell, she held the vial to the boy's half-open lips and started to pour the medicine into his mouth. She expected him to reject the bitter-smelling liquid, but surprisingly he let it run down to the back of his throat and unconsciously swallowed.  
  
"That's it. Good boy. You'll be all right now." She whispered to him, even though she knew he couldn't hear her. She tenderly lay him back down on the bed and draped the white sheets back over him. She picked up the cloth that had fallen when she lifted him, re-soaked it with cool water from a basin next to the bed, squeezed the extra water out and placed the cloth back on the boy's forehead. He stirred a little as she did, but didn't wake up.  
  
Pulling a nearby rocking chair closer to the bed, she sat down next to her sleeping patient and took his hand in hers. It was soft and delicate, not callused with war like many she had seen in past months, with long, slender fingers that could be compared to those of a woman. Beautiful. He had all of the beauty and innocence of an angel.  
  
A fallen angel.  
  
As she held his hand, watching him breathing slowly, waiting for his fever to break, a single, nagging thought echoed within her..  
  
Who are you, little fallen angel?  
  
To be continued... 


End file.
